


I hate to break it to you

by Fatale (femme)



Series: This complicated thing we have [2]
Category: White Collar
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 21:43:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/816368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femme/pseuds/Fatale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The truth is, Peter saw the ad for the Slanket online weeks ago and he’d thought it would be perfect for Neal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I hate to break it to you

I nearly screamed when this showed up in my inbox. SLANKETS. A BLANKET WITH SLEEVES. FOR A COUPLE.

 

I hate to break it to you  
Neal/Peter  
WC: 435  
PG

 

 

“I--what the hell is this?”

“It’s a Slanket,” Peter says. “A blanket with holes in it for your arms.”

Neal’s lip twitches. Peter can’t tell if it’s in amusement or horror. Both maybe. “It’s for couples.” Peter adds, “There are four holes.”

Neal’s mouth is definitely twitching in amusement now. “The more holes the merrier, I guess.”

“Look,” Peter says, “mock the Slanket if you want, but you’re always complaining that you’re cold.”

“I have poor circulation--”

“Between you and El,” Peter says, “I feel like I’m sleeping in the freezer aisle of the grocery store. I saw it, and I thought I was doing something _nice_.”

The truth is, Peter saw the ad for the Slanket online weeks ago and he’d thought it would be perfect for Neal. He could be warm _and_ have his hands free. Peter briefly entertains the idea that maybe he’s shitty at giving gifts. Maybe he should have stuck to his usual blowjob instead.

“It is nice,” Neal assures him. He eyeballs the fluffy heap in his lap and shakes his head a little. “It is nice,” he repeats, sounding less sure than the first time.

“So let’s put the Slanket on,” Peter suggests.

“Maybe,” Neal says, “we can save it for another time.”

Peter narrows his eyes. “If you don’t like it, just tell me.”

“I do like it,” Neal says, averting his eyes.

“You looked like you wanted to throw up when you saw it.”

“Just a little,” Neal murmurs. “Just a little bit in my mouth.”

“Cowboy up,” Peter says, “and get in the damn Slanket with me.”

Neal taps the fleece bundle a few time with his finger, before coming to an apparent decision. He unfolds the Slanket, and slips his arms into one set of sleeves. He pushes the rest towards Peter, who after a bit of fumbling, manages to put it on.

“Come here,” Peter says and Neal slides over, tucking himself into Peter’s side. “Comfortable?”

“Yeah,” Neal says, sounding surprised. “It’s really warm.”

Peter hums happily. “And you can scratch your nose without taking the blanket off.”

“I. That -- that’s true,” Neal says. “I can see you’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“I have,” Peter says, feeling serious and a little ridiculous. “I just, I wanted to give you something so you’d know that I, uh, I think about you. All the time.”

Neal looks at him for a long moment, inscrutable.

“Thank you,” Neal says finally, voice husky and soft, leaning into Peter. “Thank you, thank you,” he says into the wet heat of Peter’s mouth.

 

 

 

 

The end.


End file.
